


Forgiveness

by TwilightKnight17



Series: Reaper Oneshots [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, can be read as Eric/Alan if you want, general warning for heavy topics involving reapers, headcanons abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightKnight17/pseuds/TwilightKnight17
Summary: Parties are an excellent distraction, but being a reaper means you can never be completely content. 
Tipsy reapers discuss their (assumed) reward.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr a while back. 
> 
> Sascha and Rudgar's characterization is based on how an RP partner of mine plays the two of them, including Sascha being referred to as "they".

Reapers had to take their opportunities to be social where they could get them. The job was demanding, and while that was to be expected considering the circumstances that it was given to them under, it still wore on them all. There wasn't time for vacation, either, which mean that there were even fewer opportunities to see friends in other branches.

Every year, there was a huge conference that brought together representatives of all the different Shinigami Dispatch Association branches. While the Board hoped it would be a dignified affair, and for the most part it was, it inevitably ended up dissolving into a raucous party as reapers who didn't even necessarily speak the same language ended up joined in the common language of drinking too much and passing out all over the hosting dispatch.

This year, London was hosting, and Eric and Grell along with Ronald and many other enthusiastic Juniors had made sure that that there was plenty of liquor in the office. After all of the official meetings and socializing had finished, bottles had been cracked open and reapers, especially Collections reapers, proceeded to get completely smashed.

It was several hours later when Eric found himself on a couch in one of the break rooms, with Alan, who had never been one to hold his liquor well, asleep half in his lap and half in Grell's. Ronald had been dragged off by a few of the Archives girls an hour ago, and Will had apparently gone home based on what Grell had said. Two of their friends from the German dispatch, Sascha and Rudgar, were piled on the other couch along with a passed-out Felice, one of Eric's friends from the Italian dispatch. They'd all had at least as much alcohol as they would on a standard night out at a bar, so all of them were tipsy. That was probably what prompted Eric to comment absently, "Has anyone actually seen somebody get outta here?"

Rudgar stirred, blinking dark green-gold eyes at Eric. "Vhat do you mean?" he asked, as Grell made a sleepy noise of interest. Sascha was distracted playing with the end of Rudgar's tie, but tilted their head to indicate they were still listening.

"This," Eric said vaguely, waving his hand at everything and nothing. "Dispatch. Work. Bein' a reaper. We're supposed t'be workin' towards forgiveness, righ'? But has anyone actually _got_ it?"

All of the reapers listening glanced at each other uncomfortably. It wasn't really a topic most of them chose to talk about, considering the unpleasant memories it could summon up. After a long moment of silence, Rudgar said gruffly, "I've heard of people being forgiven, but I've never known any of 'dem personally. 'Dey are usually from ano'der branch."

"That's what I've heard, too," Grell drawled. "I've never heard of _anyone_ who actually knew someone personally who was forgiven." He leaned on Eric's shoulder, head lolling. "But I don't caaaare~ I like this~! I get to paint as many people red as I'm assigned~"

"I do, too!" Sascha chimed in, not seeing the way their partner cringed a bit as they spoke. "It's so interesting getting to watch every'ding and observe humans. I like being a reaper."

Eric frowned, glancing down at Alan. "It's no' really abou' whether we like it or no', though. It's s'posed t'be a punishment, an' they promised us an' endin' when we'd earned it." He carded his fingers absently through his partner's hair as he spoke. "But if no one ever earns it... Is th' whole system jus' broken? Are we gonna be stuck like this f'rever?"

" _Nein!_ " Rudgar snarled, almost lurching to his feet save for Sascha grabbing his arm to keep him down. "Don't talk like 'dat! Of course ve're not going to be stuck like 'dis! Ve _can't_ be." He knew he wasn't the only one for whom the thought of forgiveness was the only thing that kept them going some days. Reapers cracked every once in a while, fleeing the Dispatch and becoming fugitives or turning their scythes on themselves in desperation. Even a reaper as great as Legendary Death hadn't been immune. So the idea that forgiveness was an impossible goal was something that couldn't be entertained. Ever.

Sascha clung to their partner, still slightly dazed from the alcohol but aware enough to know Rudgar needed to calm down. " _Nein, Rudgar, es ist in Ordnung. Wir sind in Ordnung. Wir werden eines Tages vergeben_..." they mumbled, losing their grasp of English in their buzzed haze. Rudgar looked down at them, sighing, but fell quiet.

"I'm sorry. I just get a bit...touchy about 'dings relating to forgiveness."

"No, no, I get it," Eric assured. "I get it..." He eyed the narrow, branching scar around Alan's wrist, just visible where his sleeve had ridden up as he slept. If there was no forgiveness waiting, he wouldn't be able to handle eternity without Alan. He knew that. 

Grell stretched, almost dumping Alan's legs off the couch, and nudged Eric. "Forgiveness or not, darling, worrying about it won't get us anywhere. Either it will come or it won't."

"Easy for you t'say, Red. Ya don' care whether we get it 'r not."

"I'm telling you to relax, Eric. There's nothing we can do but do our jobs." And for a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in Grell's expression. "Don't dwell on it. That's how reapers go mad." Then it was gone, and Grell was leaning over to try to see the table on the other side of the room. "I wonder if there's any bourbon left..."

Normally Eric would be all over more bourbon, but he just nodded, waving Grell off to find the liquor and stroking Alan's hair. Rudgar sank back into the couch, sipping absently on a beer that he still had left and trying to manage Sascha, who had crawled into his lap sleepily and was trying to get comfortable. They locked eyes for a second, understanding in their expressions, and then settled back to their own thoughts. Grell was right, after all. There really wasn't anything they could do.

Just carry on...and hope that one day it all worked out.

**Author's Note:**

> Sascha: " _No, Rudgar, it's all right, we're all right, we'll be forgiven one day..._ " Courtesy of GoogleTranslate. X'''D


End file.
